Lean On Me
by AshleyPlays
Summary: /AU, Four girls, who have grown up together, graduate from college, and seperate to go out into the world and conquer. But they find out it's much harder to adjust to life without their best friends. That is until they find a little thing called love. Li
1. Pomp and Circumstance

**AN: Uh sorry! Here's the full summary:**

/AU, Four girls, who have grown up together, graduate from college, and seperate to go out into the world and conquer. But they find out it's much harder to adjust to life without their best friends. That is until they find a little thing called love. Lists, alchohol, and chihuahuas are guaranteed. R/P, Q/F, S/Matt, B/Mike.

**Hope you like it! :)**

**-Ash**

* * *

Applause rang throughout the arena, and a large smile stretched across Rachel Berry's face. She had done it. _They _had done it. The happiness filled her almost completely as she seeked her friends out in the mass of black.

Though originally they had planned to meet outside the arena with their parents, this moment was much too precious to not grab onto them and try to seal the feeling overwhelming her inside. It was too good to be true.

She spotted a head of blonde capped in matching black before the other girl spotted her. She took off at a running speed just as a smile that mirrored her own sprung out on the other girl's face.

"Rachel!" The girl squealed as Rachel flung herself on the girl, careful not to knock off both of their tasseled caps.

"Brittany!" They pulled apart and smiled again, "Oh, can you believe this?"

A familiar whistle sounded through the air. They looked over to see a beaming Santana Lopez with her hand waving wildly in motion for them to go to her. They laughed, took each other's hands, and squeezed through the crowd, where the the three of them shared a hug.

"I feel like dancing!" the Latin girl shouted and pulled herself away.

Rachel laughed. "When do you not feel like dancing, San?"

"When I'm naked; though I guess that _would _be considered dancing: just in the sack." Brittany scoffed, and Rachel rolled her eyes, but smiled anyways. Santana did have a lot of experience in _that _department.

"Oh look! There's Q!"

Quinn Fabray looked like a girl on a mission as she swooped and dodged the bodies shroud in long black robes. A determined smile graced her face when she finally spotted her friends.

They opened up ready to accept her, as always, where the four of them hugged a final time.

A feeling of accomplishment enveloped them as they gathered there in the mass of chaos. They each grabbed their cap and simultaneously tossed them to join the body of black caps above them, screaming with delight.

"Now is the time to go out into the world and leave your mark! Victory is yours! Congratulations OSU class of '10!"

* * *

Long after the giddyness wore off, the four girls were gathered on the floor of their four bedroom apartment, splitting a box of wine and brownies. They had each gotten home after long parties with their families and were glad to be in the expanse of their own home.

They had agreed to go to OSU after gradutaing high school partly because of the closeness to all of their home, Lima, Ohio. These were the kind of days that made them appreciate that decision. They had all grown up together, and this was the ending point for them. The four of them had been connected by school, and their parents; and now that they had successfully graduated college, it was time to go out and get on with their (seperate) lives.

* * *

Her whole life, Rachel had been told she was special.

Her dads had enrolled her in every kind of vocal and dance classes possible at the Jewish Community Center, and she had proven her talent. But it wasn't until the day her dads played _Wizard of Oz _for her in their expansive living room, that Rachel had seen singing and dancing a possible career choice.

As soon as she had memorized every musical number in the movie and could sing along with Judy Garland, she watched any musical, classic or non, she could get her hands on.

Her dads practically had stars in their eyes anytime they had looked in Rachel's direction, and soon she saw it in herself.

Her life almost revolved around dancing and singing, and it would of; had it not been for the fact that the Fabray family lived right next door. When she got lonely or sad, her best friend was always close at hand.

Even then, she new she was going farther than measly Lima, Ohio.

Rachel had pretty much been guaranteed a spot on the cast of "West Side Story" by one of her music professors who knew the casting director and had him listen to her sing a cover of _Don't Rain on My Parade_.

He had seemed elated and told her that even though she still had to come to New york in the fall to fully audition, her singing was astounding, and she had a big future on Broadway.

Which in essence is what she has worked for her whole life.

New York was her final destination, and she couldn't wait.

* * *

Quinn had practically been raised by her nanny, Esmeralda Lopez, who insisted that she should call her "Cha-Cha" for short when four-year-old Quinn would have trouble saying her real name (which came out like "Em-erataa"). She giggled but complied and from then on, in the mornings before school, Cha-Cha would smooth young Quinn's hair and whisper "_despierta, Reina." _with a soft smile, then move on to her sister's room to get her ready for school.

When Cha-Cha brought her daughter, Santana, who coincidentally happened to be Quinn's age, she remained impartial and both girls were treated equal, which Quinn loved. During the hot summers, the girls would go next door to the Berry residence and play outside all day, then tromp to the Fabray's household and see what Cha-Cha had made for them.

Sometimes, when Cha-Cha left Santana at home, she and Quinn would spend the entire day together, letting young Quinn cook with her and help her bake Mexican goodies.

That time she had spent with her best friends and nanny, baking, cooking and being close to people other than her teddy bears, remained in her heart through high school.

Even then she knew she had found something she had a passion for other than cheerleading and boys.

Cooking. Creating something that she could share with others and physically enjoy. That's what made her the happiest.

So she went to OSU to double major in business and culinary arts. It took a while for her parents (her mother, namely) to warm up to the idea, but she eventually got over it, much to Quinn's satisfaction.

* * *

Santana probably felt the luckiest to be there in that room.

She had grown up knowing that Lima, Ohio was as far as she would ever go. She lived with her parents and three brothers in an immaculate double wide on the opposite side of town than the neighboorhod that held giant houses like the ones Rachel and Quinn lived in.

Every morning her mother would leave before the sun rose, kiss her and each of her brothers, then leave to go play house with someone else's family. She wasn't fooling herself. She knew that had it not been for the dance scholarship she had worked so hard for, she wouldn't have gotten the opportunity to leave.

Sometimes, on a Sunday after 9:00 mass, her mami would take her shopping for groceries at her uncle's Mexican cornerstore, _La Michocana. _Santana would sit in the front behind the counter and watch as the different customers would pay for their groceries and talk animatedly with her aunt as she rang up their order.

Then one Sunday, while she was waiting on her mom as usual, she noticed a fast beat playing making her foot move. Some women began dancing in place grabbing their little one's hands and moving them, laughing with unadultered joy.

Motivated, she got up and walked so that she was right under the nearest speaker and began shamelessly dancing to the music, letting it take her to a different place. A grin permeated across her features.

People looked on and joined in, laughing and moving about in rythm to the song.

Looking up, she saw her mom's eyes widen in surprise before a smile spread across her face.

Mer mom left her cart there in the middle of the aisle, and grabbed her daughter's hands to dance with her.

After that, her mother enrolled her and Quinn Fabray at the free dance classes they offer for everyone at the Jewish Community Center. Her life was dedicated to dancing, which turned eventually into her ticket out of Lima, Ohio and her ride to LA where she wanted to become a choreographer for a dance company, movie company, or even a theater company.

Anything to make her mother proud.

* * *

Brittany was an army brat.

She had been told that all the time by people on the different bases, and each time she would ask herself why people were calling her a brat. They didn't even know her.

When she would tell her mommy that the old lady who smelled weird and lived next door, or the old man who helped her get her cat from the tree, and even the nice man who pushed the ice cream cart around their neighborhood, had called her a brat her mom would just smile and pat Brittany's head and say "Oh, honey", then carry on.

Her older brother took karate classes and everyday he came home and showed her what he learned. She loved it; not neccesarily the karate, but the way her brother's eyes would shine when he demonstrated how to complete each move and his excitement when she got it right. It made her feel like the most important person in the whole world.

Once, her mom took her and her brother to the grocery store, and the bag girl in their checkout lane smiled at her. The girl started talking to her mother about how cute her brother and her were, and unexpectedly let slip the two words that Brittany hated the most: _Army Brats._

She did the one thing she happened to know best.

She walked over and in the exact stance her brother taught her, delivered a sharp kick to the shin. Her mother sputtered in surprise and apologized immensely, but all Brittany could hear was her brother's satisfying, howling laughter.

The girl had said it was okay, but she gave Brittany a dirty look when her mother wasn't looking.

In the car, her mother said Brittany needed to learn something much more productive and less violent than fighting. Brittany remained quiet, and the following Monday, she showed up for the ten o' clock _Beginner's Jazz Studies _at the local Jewish Community Center, where she met young Rachel Berry, Quinn Fabray, and Santana Lopez.

She excelled, and eventually she was one of the best ones in the class. Her teacher would beam at her much like her brother did teaching her karate. She decided she liked it, and after that she stuck with the hobby throughout high school, and majored in dance.

During the final weeks of her college career, one of her favorite dance instructors told her that he had written her a letter of recommendation to the Southern Florida Acadmy of Dance in Miami, and they had extended an invitation for her to go and teach for them.

She excitedly accepted, and decided that Florida was an awesome place to live.

It was sunny after all.

* * *

"My mother was killing me! It was like I wasn't even there! She was making all these plans for me to open up a little bakery right at home in Lima. I could hardly keep the disgust off of my face."

Quinn shook her head. "Like that was my biggest dream all along, to go back to that _cowtown_. So the whole dinner was like always: her planning my life out for me. And Daddy just sat there _smiling. _Which she dumbly thought that meant he was agreeing with her, ultimately fueling her on. I knew he wasn't even listening, he was probably wistfully dreaming about _Wanda_."

Rachel clucked her in tounge in sympathy_. _

Quinn's realationship with her parents had always been stiff but she remained eternally optimistic to be that loving family that everyone in Lima assumed the Fabray family to be.

She had recently given up all together, though, when she had tried to surprise her father at work by bringing him lunch and in the end, it turned out, she was the one who was in for a surprise.

A big naked-secretary-under-half-naked-Daddy-surprise that she walked in on in the middle of.

Santana comfortingly laid her head on Quinn's shoulder, to which Quinn slightly smiled and patted her head in thanks.

"Did you tell them?" Brittany asked.

"Yeah... She freaked, and kept looking at Daddy for back up, but he was too deep in his wet dreams to even notice there was a disagreement... It was bad. She basically told me that if I leave to Chicago, I had might as well consider myself _cut-off. _Needless to say the rest of our dinner was held in complete silence." She finished off her glass of wine.

"But atleast I had followed my gut feeling when I opened up that savings account in high school. I have enough to rent a small apartment for about three months. And I'll get a job and be able to buy all of my utilities until I can get approved for a loan. Then I'll be home free." She sounded much more calmer then she felt, but she managed to keep the apprehension deep in her throat.

She smiled for added effect.

"I'm so sorry honey. I wish it could have gone better for you." Rachel smiled tentatively. "My dads just made dinner for us, and we had Rabbi Greenberg over. He blessed me on my way, then he left. It wasn't eventful at all. Actually it felt like every single meal we've ever had."

"That's probably because this is the day you've prepared for your whole life, Rach." Quinn stated, shaking her head and smiling. "It's inevitable."

Rachel pursed her lips, in concentration. Sure she was excited but she didn't know if she was quite ready to leave everything she had ever known behind. Brittany noticed her discomfort and, like always, mistook it for something else entirely.

"I wish I had two gay dads." Brittany said, poking Rachel's leg with a sock clad foot, and a smile on her face.

Rachel laughed, because honestly, how do you reply to that?

"At my dinner we ate, and talked." Brittany smiled widely and refilled her glass. The girls nodded. Brittany's family was as laid back as it could get, despite her father being a retired army general. College was a given for her because she had been far beyond the confines of Ohio her whole life. Though it was her permanent home, when her father got leave, he'd meet them at random places all over.

"Mami invited all of our cousins over, and we had tacos. Again. I swear that woman is trying to make me gain all that weight back." Quinn rolled her eyes and chuckled.

"Santana, five pounds is nothing."

"I don't know how I'm supposed to refuse. They're just sooo good... The best even." Santana closed her eyes, ignoring Quinn, and dreamily smiled. Brittany snickered.

"Better than sex?" Rachel's eyebrow was arched as she asked, knowing the answer.

Santana laughed, and sat straight up. "Ha! Nothing's _that _good."

"It figures." Quinn shook her head smiling. Rachel downed the rest of her glass and refilled her glass.

The girls now formed a tight circle in the center of their living room, and the effects of the alchohol were taking a slight toll on them.

"Hey! I've got an idea! Let's go around the circle and say what each of us have to do in our prospective cities." Quinn smiled and clapped her hands.

"That's a dumb game. I've got a much cooler game: Beer. Pong." Santana smiled wickedly and Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous. You only play that to get really drunk. I'm doing perfectly fine on my own."

"I like Solitaire!" Brittany exclaimed, smiling.

"Uh no, I think Quinn is on the right track! Let's make a bucket list of sorts. Stuff we have to do before we die you know?" Rachel was already planning hers out_. _She smiles, _Easy, Peazy. _

"Oh hell no. This list has to be hardcore bucketlist. Nothing lame like "_Fall in love with someone super dreamy and have mini-me's all over the place and be rich" _or what ever the hell is going through Rachel's head right now." Quinn and Brittany snickered as Rachel defeatedly huffed.

"Yeah San's right. Instead of our whole lives though, we only get three months. We need stuff that on any other circumstances we wouldn't do. Like, for Santana's list she must save sex for at least the third date. And she has to have an actual adult conversation about adult situations." Quinn caught her mistake as soon as Santana's eyes mischeviously lit up. "Well, you know what I mean. Not-Sex talks."

Santana crossed her arms against her chest. This _blows. _

Brittany showed up with a paper and a pen before anybody even notcied she was gone in the first place, then took one and wrote at the top:

_Santana _

She handed the slip to Rachel who happily obliged to writing the rest of Santana's list.

_1. I will abstain from participaing in sexual intercourse until my partner has taken me on a third date._

_2. I will not talk about anything sexual, nor propositional, at least for those three dates._

"Allright, what else?" Rachel asked, sticking the tip of the pen in her hand into her mouth, lightly chewing in concentration.

"How about make some friends? I mean the good kind, and not the the kind in which you steal their boyfriends." Quinn suggested, and before she even finished, Rachel was writing them down.

_3. I will try and make 5 good aquaintances._

_4. I will not steal anyone else's boyfriend._

"That last one wasn't even a task! It's more like a rule!" Santana was watching over Rachel as she had written them.

Rachel shrugged, and smiled. "Our game: our rules."

"How about... hmm." Quinn mumbled, grabbing the paper from Rachel and adding some random things that came to her mind.

_5. I will go and volunteer at a homeless shelter._

"What? I don't even need to do that! I know what it's like to be poor!"

"Yeah, but do you know what it's like to help others?"

"Ugh, Rachel you're so full of sh-"

"Hey! Be nice!" Quinn smacked her with a throw pillow.

"What the hell Quinn?"

_6. I will slow dance with someone special in a random place._

_7. I will eat a meal with someone famous._

"Oh cause that'll be easy. "_oh hey! How are you Channing Tatum? Can I buy you a taco? Thanks!' _"

"...where did that even come from?"

"What? He's super hot, okay?"

_8. I will keep my apartment completely clean at all times in case of a surprise visit from one of you!_

"Good one Brittany!" Rachel beamed at the girl, who returned the gesture.

"Ugh!"

_9. I will have a boyfriend. In which I date for longer than a month._

"What the hell? I've had a boyfriend for longer than a month!"

"I'm sorry San, but Fuck-buddies do not count"

_10. I will take said boyfriend home to meet Cha-Cha, and make her the proudest mother in the world. _

"Are we done now?" Santana grabbed the sheet as soon as Quinn read the last one out.

"What no objection to the last one?" Rachel raised her brow.

"Nope." Santana grabbed another sheet of paper and scribbled

_Brittany _

_1. I will talk just as much as anyone else in a conversation._

"You're too quiet."

_2. I will dance in a new club every week until I have danced at every single club in Miami._

_3. I will stick up for someone I have never met before._

"Oh! Put _'I will be a very good teacher'_!" Brittany smiled, proud of her input.

"Honey, that's a given."

Brittany smiled. "Thanks Q_." _

_4. I will dance in the middle of a thunderstorm._

_5. I will get a dog and name him..._

_"_Cat!"

"Britt, that's a horrid name."

"Oh. Well how about... Drizzle?"

"That's the best ever!"

_5. I will get a dog and name him Drizzle._

_6. I will go to a nudist beach. _

_"_Santana, that's distasteful."

"I like it." Brittany smiled.

"See, Rachel? Okay then! It's settled."

_7. I will go to a bar and dance with every boy in which I find cute._

_8. Every night I will write down everything that happened and how I felt about it in a journal._

_"_Okay, Rach, even I'll admit that's not that cool."

"Quinn! Documentation is vital!"

_9. I will go to the beach at least three times a week. _

_"_Three. Santana that's way too many times!"

"What? Once a week for each of us... Oh. I see now."

_9. I will go to the beach at least three times a week. And then another for myself._

_10. I will dance in a music video with someone famous._

_"_There, all done Britt."

"Wow, it's beautiful."

Rachel laughed maniacally, grabbing a sheet and printing

_Quinn_

_1. I will date the _first _person who asks me out on a date._

_"_What the hell?"

"You _do_ tend to be a little selective, Q."

"As opposed to you, Santana? Humping anything that breathes, has a dick, and a six pack?"

"Yep" Santana smacked her lips soundly in the air.

_2. I will drink achohol with someone other than R, S, or B._

_"_Oh please! Like you drink with anyone other than us either Rachel!"

Santana barked a laugh. "Of course she does! Remember that night that night when Jake from her homeroom got her flat out drunk, just to make out with her and leave when she passed out?"

Quinn snickered when Rachel's face grew hot.

"Shut up! I can't believe you guys are making fun of me for that! I cried for weeks!"

"Whatever, just get back to the stupid list."

"Humpf."

_3. I will go to a karaoke bar and sing a song._

_"_Rach, that's so not my thing."

"Hello? The whole point of this list is to do things _out of character."_

_4. I will use a laundromat, and *gasp* the laundry detergent that comes in the little dispenser._

_"_Oh please. I am _not _that bad."

"Ha!"

_5. I will make a restraunt grow in profits, and be promoted._

_"_LAME!"

"San, shut up! It's a good one!"

_6. I will go to the very top of the Sears tower._

_"_Noo!"

"What Britt?"

"Oh. I don't know. I just thought it was a bad place. Like in Batman or whatever."

"Alllllright then."

_7. I will promise to visit R, S, and B at least once a month._

_"_Rachel..."

"Ugh. _fine!_"

_7. I will promise to visit R, S, and B at least once every _two _months._

_"_Okay that's like six dumb things in a row. My turn now."

"Hey!"

_8. I will go completely topless for a room full of strangers._

_"_No. Way."

"Too. Bad."

_9. I will cook breakfast for someone special after a night full of mind blowing sex._

_"_That one's not so bad.."

_10. I will talk to my parents once and for all and make them stop avoiding all the crap that's right infront of their faces._

Silence followed as Brittany grabbed the final sheet and wrote

_Rachel_

_1. I will go to at least three different sports events._

_2. I will dance- provacatively- with the first person to buy me a drink._

_"_Ha!" Rachel laughed, thinking '_That's only if I even go to a bar!'_

_3. I will go to a bar the first night I arrive in New York no matter how late or how tired I am._

_"_Damnit!"

"Face it. I can read you like a book Berry."

_4. I will date more than one person._

_"O_kay?"

"Not finished..."

_4. I will date more than one person. At the same time._

_5. I will say cuss words enough so it looks like I am cool._

_"_God. How old are you?"

_6. I will have phone sex._

"Brittany! That's wholly repulsive!"

"But I thought you were Jewish?"

_7. I will make out with a fellow cast mate._

_"_I wouldn't even bother with that one."

"What? Why?"

"'Cause. There's no nudity involved. Why waste your time?"

"God. Is sex the only thing you think of San?"

_8. I will give someone a lap dance._

_9. I will have my face on a billboard._

_"_How do I even do that?"

"I don't know?"

"This sucks."

_10. I will go to a bar and pole dance. _

"Oh. That's just ridiculous."

"Yep. But you still gotta do it."

This is gonna be a lot harder than she thought.

The four of them polished off the rest of the box of wine, and drifted off there on the living room floor, reminiscing.

* * *

**AN: Hey, sorry it's soo long. I know there are a lot of things from the series in here, and there will be more in the story, but they might be in relation to different characters, i.e. Drizzle :). I just couldn't go to sleep until I fianlly put this story down. It's my first so please go easy on me! Enjoy :)**

**Love, **

**Ashley.**


	2. Dare For Distance

**A/N: Hey! Thanks for the great reviews! It totally made my day! :)**

**distorted realities: I went and I read some of the story "Before I Die" and I realized that I had (unintentionally) copied a lot of her plot points, so I went back and I made as many changes as possible without affecting the storyline at all, and so I hope now it won't be too big of Deja vu reading it ;) Which it shouldn't cause I have my chapters outlined in my mind enough to know that her story is going a different direction. And thanks for saying you loved it, cause that made me feel much better. :)**

**Anyways on with the story!**

* * *

Quinn smiled as she slid the last and smallest box from the pile. She carefully ran a boxcutter over the tan tape that sealed it, clasped it shut, then set it down on the carpet next to her. She dug through the tiny white stryofoam peanuts and pulled out the small deep blue bowl.

She smiled again as she remembered the day she, Santana, Rachel, and Brittany had made them on Rachel's back patio when they were in sixth grade. She placed it on the bookshelf right in between pictures of the four of them graduating: from high school on the left, and most recently, college, on the right.

She placed the empty box amongst the others in a large discard heap, then brushed herself off, and surveyed her new (small) apartment.

Everything was accounted for, and moving couldn't have gone better. She felt completely independent for the first time, and exhaled a shaky breath, then sat on the couch wondering what to do next. She finally felt the impending loneliness begin to press in on her.

She was in a totally new city, which was big enough to get lost in, and she had no one to go to for comfort, or hell, even company. The girls were probably all still trying to transition to their new lives and she didn't want to whine.

_I can't just sit here doing nothing for the rest of the day,_ she decided, _otherwise I'll go completely stir-crazy_.

She went to her room, slipped on her white flip-flops, grabbed her purse, made sure she had her camera, and checked herself in the mirror that hung in the foyer one last time before leaving the comfortable confines of her apartment.

Her spaghetti-strapped coral dress went well with her fair skin, and her hair looked near perfect, just like she liked it. She locked the door behind her, and walked to the elevators where she pressed the down button and waited.

"Stupid elevator." She turned around to take the stairs, and smacked into a small, sweet smelling body.

She looked into blue eyes, which were shining with annoyance. His hair was flipped to one side and the scarf around his neck was the same matching powder blue as his undershirt, and pants. His white polo was crisp, and what looked to be a portfolio was tucked securely under his arm. He looked her up and down, and the annoyance slipped from his face as he smiled.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She stepped by him, a little unnerved by his blatant scope of her.

"Don't worry about it honey. What are you wearing? Gucci? Prada?" He started circling her and looking her up and down appreciatively.

"Uh.. Target?" She crossed her arms. He stopped and looked at her once more, this time in the eyes.

"Ahh, slumming it, I see?" He nodded, satisfied. "Well, regardless, it works well for you. The name's Kurt. Kurt Hummel?" He raised his eyebrows in question to whether or no she had heard of him. When he got no reply, he continued, "I'm a fashion columnist for the _tribune. _And let me just say, you're gorgeous. I live in 11G," He shook her hand and she noticed how soft it was.

"I'm Quinn, thanks. I'm in 11C." She smiled when his eyes brightened.

"Oh goody! Don't be surprised if you get a few 'surprise' visits from yours, truly. Although, most people feel honored if anything."

The elevator binged, and its doors opened. She followed him in and was happy to see that the elevator was empty.

"You're the new neighbor right?"

She nodded. "Yes. I just got finished packing actually."

"Ah, so? What brings you to the great _Windy City_?"

She fidgeted with the zipper on her purse. "Well, my long term goals are to open up a bakery and maybe a cafe as well, but for now I have to get a job first."

He nodded, impressed.

The doors opened at the lobby and they stepped out and walked together in silence to the large front door of their apartment building. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Quinn. I hope to _bump _into you more often." He winked at her, and turned on his way.

She watched after him with a small smile on her face. She had made a friend.

* * *

She had used the excuse of sightseeing to get out of the apartment, but truth be told, she just wanted to go job shopping. She had looked at several bakeries, but most of them had a generic touch to them, which left her slightly disappointed.

If she had wanted to work at a supermarket bakery, she would have applied to the Piggly Wiggly there in Lima.

It was nearing eight, and the sun had become hidden behind most of the large buildings, casting a large shadow over the street she was walking on.

She heard a loud bout of laughter from a group of people gathered in front of what looked to be a small bistro. The sign above the large front window stated "Helena's".

The light only spilled out when the door opened, and people would leave laughing in groups just as more people would enter. The windows seemed to be tinted, so she couldn't see in at all. She decided to head over and check out the place.

Opening the door, cigar smoke filled her senses, reminding her of nights when she was younger. Out of the very few moments that she spent time with her father the ones she remembered most was when she was younger. He would get the newspaper and sit in his office there at home, with a large cigar in his mouth, and a glass of scotch in front of him. She would wordlessly approach the Large mahogany desk that came up all the way to her chest and wait for him to take notice. He'd then silently hand her the comics section, which she'd happily look over, and sit across from him in one of the large leather chairs. And that's how they would sit, in reverant silence, until Cha-Cha called them for dinner.

She smiled softly as the dim lights added with the soft jazz, and smoke, made her feel like she was back at home, in her daddy's office, reading Peanuts over and over again, trying to catch the punch line.

A dark skinned girl dressed in a black v-neck and slacks smiled at her. "Hi, how many?"

"Just one, thanks." Quinn crossed her arms in front of herself as the girl's lips thinned and she nodded in sympathy.

"Would you like to sit at the bar?" Quinn studied the restaurant before nodding her head.

"Sure, why not? I could use a drink." She smiled at the girl.

"Haha, girl, you're tellin' _me. _Hey Fish! Got a single right here!" Quinn's eyes widened at the statement, and color rushed to her cheeks. The girl laughed. "Oh hon, that just means a single _party._ It helps the bartender."

Quinn nodded, taking a seat on one of the stools without people surrounding it completely. She had understood, but since the majority of the people who were sitting at the bar also happened to be of the male origin, there were suddenly a lot more eyes on her than she was used to.

"What can I do for you?" A (handsome) guy was standing there, his hair slightly mussed on the top of his head, with a boyish lopsided grin. His black v-neck made his arms stand-out, and his brown eyes never left hers. She shook her head, clearing her mind.

"Oh just a glass of wine thanks." She showed him her i.d. and he nodded.

"Sure thing."

She looked up at a small screen which was playing a football game. She smiled remembering Rachel's list, and imagined her at a football game. A deep voice shook her from her small daydream of a little Rachel smushed in between two lwo large, screaming, die-hard football fans.

"Hey baby. Can I buy you a drink?" Her stomach sank as she looked into the eyes of a much older, and hairier, man. She remembered her stupid list and was about to accept, when cute-bartender-fish set her glass in front of her.

"Are you sure that's a good idea Logan? I saw the wife and kids at Walgreen's. How is little Johnny anyways? I heard he's been _really_ sick lately." The man lifted his hands in surrender and went back the way he came, mumbling, "Okay, okay."

Quinn let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. "Thanks."

He smiled (causing her heart to skip a beat_. again_.) "No problem, Quinn." She almost passed out until she realized he knew her name because he had looked at her license. Scolding herself for acting like such an obsessed school girl, she smiled back.

"What kind of name is Fish?" At first she wasn't sure if she had actually asked that question out loud, but her answer was in the way his face looked stunned. It was really awkward, and she couldn't figure out why he was still standing there looking like someone had just caught him in the act of doing something... _naughty. _She internally kicked herself for even thinking like that, a hell of a lot like Santana.

"My name is actually Finn. It's just the people around here find it hilarious to mock me." He nervously laughed. She smiled, and decided she liked this guy.

"Well, I'm Quinn Fabray. Nice to meet you." She stuck her hand out, to which he returned. She felt tingles in her hand when it was enveloped by his.

"Finn Hudson. And yes, before you say anything, Hudson like the Hudson river. My parents did not have an obsession with all things aquatic. Finn is a family name. And Hudson is our last name, so I'm not sure that they can even help that it also happened to be a river."

She quirked her eyebrow, and smiled. "Actually I wasn't going to say anything at all."

He smiled, clearly embarassed. He opened his mouth to say something else but was cut off.

"Hey! Bartender!" He turned and nodded his head in acknowlegement.

"Well, duty calls. Bye, Quinn." He flashed one last smile before turning to serve the other patrons.

She finished the rest of her wine, and made a snap decision, looking over at the now empty hostess podium. The dark-skinned girl from earlier returned, and Quinn made her move.

"Did you find everything good hon?" The girl looked up from the chart taped to the top of the podium surface.

"Yes..." she looked at her gold tame tag, "Andrea. Actually I'm here to ask for an application."

The other girl's eyebrows furrowed in wonder, but she complied anyways. "There ya go."

"Thanks."

Quinn took an inhibited breath as she stepped back out onto the street feeling much more self-assured than she had leaving her apartment. She turned in the direction her building, smiling. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to adjust.

* * *

**There it is! I love to watch The Office, and I crack up everytime Andy calls Jim Tuna, so I figured Finn had to have a bitchin' nickname as well. :)**

**And I'm totally going at random as to whose next :) I like to be as un-favoring as possible. But I tend to LOVE me some Puckleberry :)**

**Thanks for reading :)**

**-Ash.**


	3. This Time Around

**A. N. : Well, thanks for the reviews, alerts, etc. and I know the last one was a really fast update, but I wanted to give a little more :) I don't think I'll be able to post more than one a day everytime, but I'll try. **

**And as far as each chapter goes, I'll be writing about each in random order based on (a highly professional method) whose name I pick out of a hat next :), and they will do things on their list at random as well. Whenever an opportunity presents itself. :)**

**Enjoy! **

* * *

Brittany Hollis studied the building in front of her with slight unease.

She knew what school was like.

She remembered what Santana and herself used to say and do behind the teachers' backs. She remembered the day they had bought a porcelain cat from the dollar store, set it on their english teacher's chair and pushed it in so that she wouldn't be able to tell it was there before taking a seat.

She remembered the horrified look on Miss. Dink's face as she screamed, and then began to cry. She even rememebered that all she could focus on was Santana's chuckles when Miss. Dink took off out the door leaving the whole class unattended, and laughing, behind.

In Brittany's defense, how was _she_ supposed to know that Mrs. Dink had been terrorized her whole childhood by a large Tabby cat her parents insisted on keeping?

How was _she_ supposed to know that the cat had _violent_ mood swings that it would take out on poor little Brenda Dink?

How was _she_ supposed to know that even after her Tabby cat died, Brenda Dink had severe panic attacks at the thought of anything feline?

Well Brittany didn't know. And the next day when her teacher returned with bloodshot eyes, and lingering terror plain on her face, Brittany still had no clue why they were being sent to the principal's off by a withering, tortured, Miss. Dink.

She could only hope that since it was a dance school, and her kind relationship with cats, it would be easier.

She took her first step into the Academy and immediately almost fell victim to the chaos that buzzed around the hallways . She was shoved, stepped on, and some really tall kid with a giant backpack even smacked her in the face with it. The kid mumbled an apology, and stalked off.

She had to stop and catch her bearings before going on. Her nose slightly throbbed, and her eyes had involuntarily teared up.

She felt a little depressed. When she was in high school, she was on the cheerleading team, so all she had to do was link arms with Quinn and Santana and the crowd would part like the Red Sea. Now she was invisible, and nothing more than someone to toss around.

She took a deep breath to collect herself and told herself there was only one way to get where she needed to go. She _refused _to be turned into a Miss. Dink. _Refused. _

Buckling down, she pretended like she was Santana, and began pushing back. She never stopped to consider whether it was against some kind of rule or not, but she was pretty sure didn't care anyways.

The door marked "HEADMASTER" was like a glass of water in the middle of the Gobi desert for her. She brightened and took off running towards the door, and ignored the kids who stopped and openly stared.

The downside to sprinting down the hallways like an idiot?

There was _no _time to compose herself to meet her boss for the first time in person when she was loping through the door and hastefully slamming it loudly behind her.

The plus side?

The second kids saw her sprinting at them, they were smart enough to move the hell out of the way.

She smiled, bent with her hands on her knees, glad that she found a new way of trekking the halls in a safer manner.

Someone cleared their throat and her eyes were wide when they looked up to see a man with thick rimmed glasses and a friendly smile on his face. His hair was neatly combed to the side, and she found he reminded her of her older brother.

"Hello, you must be Miss. Hollis? I'm Headmaster Abrams. But you can call me Artie." She pursed her lips, thinking hard.

"I think I'll call you Brandon instead."

He cocked his head to the side and a confused expression flashed across his face.

She explained herself. "That's my brother's name, and you make me think of him."

He slowly smiled, still confused.

"Sure. You can call me whatever you'd like."

She nodded, happy.

"Miss. Hollis, I just wanted to tell you just how delighted we are that decided to come and join our panel of staff. On normal circumstances, seeing as this is a dance _school_, it would have been required for you to have a teaching degree as well dance. But we hired you on the basis of only teaching dance." Brittany nodded, because she had _absolutely _no idea how else to act in response. He smiled and silence cloaked the room.

"Would you like a tour, Miss. Hollis?"

"Sure." And for the first time that day, she had a small spark of excitement.

* * *

Artie stopped in front of a glass door with the label "Studio 4".

She liked the fact that most of the dance studios had glass rectangular panels so that you could easily see inside from the outside. It let her watch each class carry on as they passed by and Artie filled her in on the history of the school.

At first all Brittany could do was wonder how Artie had gotten to be the principal of a _dance _school. He looked like he belonged in front of a computer, like at that one iPod company, grape or whatever. He had on a green sweater vest over a simple white dress shirt and khaki pants, with clumpy shoes.

She rememebered the time she and Quinn had snuck over to Rachel's house and stole all of her sweater vests, much like the one Artie was wearing. Rachel had gotten _so _mad. She giggled thinking of a red Rachel, which made Artie look at her strange.

He must have been talking before her outburst because he finished his sentence, "... he died soon after that."

Overcompensating, she patted his shoulder, "I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Well, that was about fifty years ago. Thanks to him passing, my family was able to take over the Academy. Which in turn allowed me to follow in command when my father retired, so I wouldn't say it was a loss. Merely an unfortunate contingency."

When she stared blankly at him, he turned and carried on walking.

"Shall we?"

Now they were in front of _Studio 4, _where an Asian woman was teaching ballet to a group of freshman, smiling brightly.

"Hey Brandon, who is that?"

Artie's eyes were wistfully watching as the woman instructed the girls how to perform a "_Fouetté jeté". _Under his breath, Artie mumbled _'brilliant'._ Brittany's attention snapped back to the starry-eyed principal. A slow smile spread across her face as Artie realized her staring at him.

"What?" he sputtered, his insecurity pasted on his face.

"Brandon, you _so _like her, don't you?"

"I have no clue what you are talking about. Miss. Cohen-Chang is an excellent instructor is all I'm saying." He self conciously crossed his arms against his chest, which made her smile.

She patted him on the shoulder, a familiar gesture it seemed, and they proceeded to watch until the woman dismissed her class. The girls began gathering their belongings, so Artie opened the glass door, and Brittany followed him into the room.

"Miss. Cohen-Chang, I'd like for you to meet Miss. Hollis. You two will be sharing this studio."

Brittany smiled a little too large and stuck her hand out, wildly pumping the other girls arm in greeting.

The woman laughed, "You can call me Tina."

"Hi Tina. I'm Brittany." Brittany grinned again, a little too suspiciously for Artie's liking, so he quickly told Brittany what time her lunch break was and left.

"Bye, Brandon!" She called after him, and he briskly waved before disappearing around the corner. Tina giggled and shook her head.

"When is your first class?" Tina moved to stretch in front of the mirrors.

Brittany bit her lip trying to remember what Artie had said, "I'm not sure."

"That's allright, we'll just wait and see when the kids come in and ask for you. In the meantime, we'll go over what you'll be teaching. Artie told me to sit in with you for the first couple of times, just to make sure you get the hang of it. Is that okay with you?"

Brittany nodded.

School wasn't nearly as bad as she thought it would be.

* * *

Lunch was a different story. She knew Tina had the same lunch as her, and she had planned on sitting with her in the teacher's lounge, but when she got there, Tina was nowhere to be found.

She felt like she was back in high school again, but with older, snoodier people instead of sex-crazed teenagers. Some of the women even had the audacity to give her a once over. If she wanted _that _kind of behavior, she could walk over to the cafeteria and sit amongst the student body.

She had only met Tina and Artie, and so far no one else had went out of their way to introduce themselves.

She felt a tap on her shoulder, and turned around. A cute, tall asian man stood behind her with a timid smile on his face and his hands jammed in his pocket. She beamed and stuck her hand out. "Hi! I'm Brittany Hollis." He nodded and shook her hand.

"Mike Chang."

She raised her eyebrow, and pointed at herself. "No. I'm Brittany Hollis."

He crinkled his eyebrows laughed. "Yeah. And I'm Mike Chang."

He watched as realization struck her features. "Oh." She smiled.

"There you are!" Tina looked slightly relieved, then looked between the two of them. "Oh, I see you've met! Good! C'mon, let's go sit down." They followed Tina to a small round table and sat.

Brittany was thinking about Mike and Tina's names.

_Cohen-Chang. Chang. _

_Cohen-Chang. Chang._

When suddenly it dawned on her.

"Are you guys married?"

Tina laughed outright and Mike choked on his sandwich. "No, we're cousins."

Brittany smiled, happy to hear that Tina was still kind of available for Artie (she still didn't know if she was dating anyone). And maybe a little relieved that Mike wasn't completely taken either. She knew she wasn't really looking to date yet, but when she felt like joining the community of horny couples, she was glad Mike Chang might be an open option.

"That makes sense."

A small moment of silence drifted by and she started to think about her list. Grasping at straws, she turned to Tina, "Do you have a boyfriend?" Tina's eyes widened, but continued chewing until her mouth was empty.

"Well, no not exactly..." Brittany kept looking at her until she continued.

"Well I have this secret admirer of sorts. Sometimes, when I get home there will be a bouquet of roses, or in the mail there will be a poem which will make me feel so good about myself, I could conquer the world. And one particularly bad day, it was raining, and I had a tough day of classes. I twisted my ankle really badly in the middle of teaching, and when I got home I was sopping wet and sore. I was just _miserable. _And there, on my doorstep, was a crisp new package of Ramen noodles with my name literally on it. I love Ramen noodles. Right then I felt better than I had all day."

Brittany was smiling as Tina told her story, and even kicked Mike under the table when he cynically scoffed at how _romantic _Tina's (stalkerish) secret admirer was. She winked at him though, which let him know she was just messing around.

"Well, who do you think it is?"

Tina bit her lip and shrugged. "I'm not sure I want to find out. What if he really is like Mike says? An old creepy guy who just wants sex?"

Brittany pursed her lips and thought hard. "Well, so what if he is? You can ask him to stop, and tell him you're not interested. There's still an even chance that he is the guy of your dreams. It sounds like he knows how to treat a girl pretty well, you in particular. You'll never know unless you find out." Brittany was still surprised that she had come up with that on her own. She figured she was channeling Quinn or something.

Tina, smiled and nodded her head, "Yeah. I guess you're right... But how do you suppose we do that?"

"Well we could do what my friends and I used to do in high school. We can send him a letter telling him to come over wearing something sexy. But instead of using our biology teacher's address, we'll use Tina's. It works, I promise!" Brittany nodded encouragingly, until both Mike and Tina burst with laughter that rang throughout the lounge and caused the other teachers to cast narrowed glances in their direction. She laughed with them, not getting the joke, but she knew better than to question.

"You're really funny, you know that Brittany?" Mike had sobered and the grin on his face eased her tension.

"Thanks."

They finished their lunch swapping small talk and Brittany felt a sense of pride swell up in her stomach.

At her apartment that night, she sat on her bed with the list neatly unfolded out in front of her on her bed, and a newly purchased journal to her left. She tarted a new page and started to describe how her day went all the way to lunch, when she had more than just a one-sided conversation.

She had finally been able to get number one marked off of her list.

_1. I will talk just as much as anyone in a conversation. _Check.

* * *

**Thoughts, Please! This chapter was surprisingly easier than I thought, even as I tried to stay as close to Brittany's personality as possible. It _was_ a little hard, though, making her play dumb in some parts, yet smart enough to form actual input in a conversation at other times. In short, my goal was to make a complex character out of her, as opposed to the completely hollow dim-witted girl from the show, but have her stay as dim-witted as possible? If that makes any sense at all?**

**_And _Artie is one of my favorite characters of all time in a T.V. show, period. He makes me happy. So of course he gets to walk, be a headmaster at a _Dance_ academy, and quite possibly get the girls in the end too. As an added plus, which you'll read in future chapters, _Brandon gets DOWN_! ;) **

**Till next time! **

**Ashley.**


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